Sea of Suffering Has No Bounds, Skybridge Reaches Heaven Part Two

"This..." Abbot Timothy's expression wavered. His eyes darted back and forth, shifting unconsciously as he struggled with an intense inner conflict. After a moment, he finally gritted his teeth and shouted angrily, "Brother Samuel, step aside at once, or I’ll have no choice but to use force!"

"Sigh..." Brother Samuel let out a long breath and pressed his palms together in a gesture of respect toward Abbot Timothy. Then, he slowly straightened up, swept his hands out, and strikingly assumed the stance of Arhat Fist. With solemnity, he said, "Your brother is acting alone. I’ve already sent someone to find the child and put an end to this conflict."

"You—!" Abbot Timothy, utterly furious, struck out with a Thousand-Leaf Palm: "Utter foolishness!!"

Meanwhile, on the other side, atop the Grand Hall, Jill Young’s duel with the two monks had reached a fever pitch. But this time, the fight was different from anything before—not just a contest of strength, but a battle of wills.

Brother Matthew himself was surprised. His Zen Finger Strike had never been this powerful before, but for some reason, here and now, it was as if divine intervention had amplified it to terrifying levels. Statues of the Buddha and Arhats filled the grand hall, and now, countless statues seemed to transform into shadowy, half-real images, reflected in the world of the mind.

To outsiders, the three figures darted and clashed around the Buddha statues and candle stands, exchanging countless blows. Sometimes Brother Matthew would even leap onto the heads and shoulders of the Arhat statues, striking all sorts of seemingly pointless poses. But to Jill Young, everything looked completely different.

She felt as if she were standing in a world of wonders.

It was like the most absurd dream and the harshest reality had merged together—like a stage set filled with dry ice, dazzling and bizarre, yet ethereal and illusory. The Arhat statues became towering mountains, ancient trees, and divine birds, each with a different shape. Beams of powerful light shot out from the mountains, colliding with Jill Young and sending off sparks; in reality, that was Brother Paul’s attack and the resulting shockwave. On the ground, smoke billowed and wild winds raged—in reality, that was incense burning on the altar.

"All beings suffer!" A voice of overwhelming divine authority echoed through the world. Then, Jill Young saw the smoke at her feet slowly dissipate, revealing a hellish scene. Beneath the earth, it was as if billions of people were imprisoned—not locked in cages, but trapped within the very concept of "ground" itself. It was as though the earth had become a tough membrane, with people struggling to reach for the sky. The entire land became a churning wave of hands and heads, stretching as far as the eye could see. But in the end, no one could escape, and all they could do was let out silent, anguished screams.

"The Five Defilements: the defilement of the age, of views, of afflictions, of beings, and of life itself. The Eight Sufferings: birth, aging, sickness, death, separation from loved ones, meeting those you hate, unfulfilled desires, and the suffering of the five aggregates." Brother Matthew chanted as he unleashed his Zen Finger Strike again and again. What people experienced when struck by the Zen Finger Strike depended on their own past deeds—the greater their sins and black marks, the more powerful the blow to their soul.

"All beings in the Three Realms are tormented by the Five Defilements and Eight Sufferings, never finding peace." Brother Matthew recited the sutra with radiant dignity, feeling miraculously in top form—his words flowed like a lotus blooming from his tongue: "It’s like a grand mansion consumed by fire, impossible to live in."

Hannah Frost, Lola Lotus, and the others rushed to the grand hall doors, eager to witness the duel, but the shockwave from the Zen Finger Strike hit them too. Instantly, they were stunned and dazed. Each saw their own demons—Hannah Frost even screamed, clutching her head and nearly collapsing. She was dragged back to those nightmare days, forced into the brothel. The clients, the madam, even her own family, all twisted into monstrous, man-eating forms, closing in and tearing at her.

If the shockwave alone was this intense, Jill Young—who was hit with the full force—had it even worse. In her eyes, the burning candles on the altar became an endless inferno, setting the vast earth ablaze. All those struggling souls on the ground sizzled like squid on a hot iron plate, their agony echoing in the flames.

Corpses drifting down the river from Master Windless’s massacre, martial artists killing each other in the ancient southern temple for a mystical weapon, the Reliable Cat plowing through crowds in a catmobile just for fun—and the biggest bombshell: the hordes of mutated, demonized citizens of Shanghai. Every memory morphed into abstract symbols, manifesting one by one in the surreal world before her eyes.

"The sky’s an iron curtain, the earth’s a blazing furnace. In such a world of karmic filth, there’s no escape." As Brother Matthew chanted, Jill Young also stopped moving.

Brother Matthew was secretly delighted; this duel was less about physical victory and more about winning hearts and minds. If he could persuade this deeply Buddhist young woman to join the monastic life, that would be the best outcome. He leapt onto the Buddha Statue’s shoulder, formed a mudra, and shouted, "Such is the Bitter Sea—boundless and shoreless! What is the way to liberation? Only Spirit Mountain!"

Before Jill Young’s eyes, the world spun and ground like a giant millstone. Beyond the earth lay a yellow, lifeless ocean, its waves towering and endless, with no shore in sight. Amid all this chaos, a beam of Buddha’s light suddenly appeared. The Buddha Statue in reality became a colossal Buddha phantom in her mind, steering a giant ship toward her. Hannah Frost and the others, awed by the sight, changed expressions as if shipwreck survivors had glimpsed a rescue boat—faces filled with hope and wild joy.

"Laywoman, the Bitter Sea is endless—turn back and you’ll find the shore." Brother Paul also stopped fighting and addressed Jill Young from nearby: "We mean well, please understand. Without turning your heart to Buddha, there’s no way across."

The girls at the doorway, caught in the shockwave, struggled with their expressions. They resisted, but couldn’t break free from the mental illusion. The deeper the pain in their hearts, the stronger the cage, and the more they suffered under the power of the Zen Finger Strike.

But Jill Young, who hadn’t moved for a while, suddenly burst out laughing—loud and clear, shaking the rafters and sending dust raining down. In the world of the mind, she stood amid the raging wildfire at the edge of the endless Bitter Sea, yet laughed as if she’d just seen something hilarious.

"Bitter Sea? Salvation?" Jill Young pointed at where Brother Cheer stood in reality and shouted, "Nonsense!"

"Nonsense?" The two monks were stunned. The Zen Finger Strike wasn’t supposed to have this effect—how could she react like this? Brother Paul couldn’t help but ask, "Laywoman, why would you say that?"

"You don’t get it, do you?" If it were Teacher Yang here before overcoming his inner demons, he might have been confused. But Queen Jill never hesitates on this front: "Fine, let me ask you—if you’re saving all beings, where exactly are you taking them?"

"It’s not me who saves people—it’s Buddha. And the place of salvation is, of course, the Pure Land."

"And where’s this Pure Land?"

"On the other shore."

"Don’t give me these slick riddles! I ask where the Pure Land is, you say the other shore. If I ask where the other shore is, you’ll say the Pure Land—spare me the mystical word games, I’m not an idiot!" Jill Young swept her hand, full of momentum. "Don’t talk to me about Buddha—Buddha doesn’t speak, all the scriptures are written by monks. And don’t talk about Pure Land, because no one’s ever left the universe. At the end of the day, it’s still just a monastery. But let’s get specific—take Shaolin Temple: is it really as peaceful and pure as you claim? Seventy years ago, why did the Shaolin Fireworker leave? You two know, don’t you?"

"Well..." Brother Paul looked embarrassed. He’d been there for the Shaolin Fireworker incident, and Shaolin itself was definitely not blameless.

"If you can’t even save yourselves, how can you save others? Dragging people onto a rickety boat and sailing into the open sea—and some parts of that boat were stolen by you monks! You call that salvation? It’s more like sending souls off than saving them!" Jill Young pointed at the Buddha Statue in front: "Look at that thing behind you—where’d the money come from to build it? Did Buddha give it to you? Don’t kid me, it came from those so-called people in the burning house. You talk big about spiritual salvation, but in the end, it’s just donors buying tickets and monks gilding the Buddha. If that’s not nonsense, what is?"

"Well..." Brother Matthew couldn’t smile anymore. He wore a bitter expression and said, "It’s true, monks aren’t all saints. But not everyone’s like that. Besides, if we followed your thinking, what then? Just let all beings struggle endlessly in suffering?"

"Don’t get so preachy, coming in with your ‘all beings suffer’ mantra. So what if there’s a boundless Bitter Sea? Swim across it yourself!" In the Mindscape World, a blazing light shone from Jill Young’s brow. The seventh tier of the Insight Technique unleashed a tremendous mental force—when Jack Young reached this level, his Mindscape World froze everything; now, Jill Young’s was just as powerful.

Her Mindscape World hadn’t fully formed yet, but under the stimulation of Brother Cheer’s Zen Finger Strike, it was like a chick breaking out of its shell, a seed sprouting.

Whoosh—the immense mental force erupted, and the Mindscape Worlds began to clash and interfere. Everyone present, including the two monks and all the girls caught in the shockwave, seemed to be dragged into Jill Young’s surreal world. Things invisible before now appeared in a haze: heaven and earth like a millstone, mountains as fences, all beings frying in oil, wild waves surging in the Bitter Sea.

At the horizon shone Buddha’s light, and a phantom Buddha loomed, solemn as a deity. Countless beings of the mortal world knelt before the light, hoping for a chance to escape their suffering.

But in this world of kneeling masses, one person stood tall before the Bitter Sea—Jill Young. Without looking back, she called out: "Girls, tell these two clueless monks, what’s the first thing I taught you?"

Whether new recruits or original veterans, all the girls shouted excitedly in unison: "Kneecaps are for standing up!"

"Ha, exactly!" Amid the raging karmic flames, Jill Young strode forward, and with every step, her Mindscape World trembled and changed. "I don’t care about all beings, and I don’t need to. Those who only know how to kneel and wait for rescue—those cowards who never fight, never take a step on their own—let them suffer, let them burn, I couldn’t care less. But anyone willing to stand up and walk with me, no matter how wide the Bitter Sea, we’ll swim across it together!"

The yellow waters of the Bitter Sea surged and parted, like a giant ship cutting through waves.

Brother Paul stared in astonishment, and Brother Matthew was speechless. After a moment, Brother Paul finally asked, "Can things in this world ever go as people wish? When heaven collapses, the earth crumbles, mountains fall, and tsunamis rage—just like this chaotic age, impossible to resist—what then?" As he spoke, the Mindscape World shifted and cycled through scenes: endless battles, deafening slaughter, real yet unreal—clearly drawn from Brother Paul’s own memories and experiences.

"Isn’t it obvious?" Jill Young wasn’t fazed in the slightest. She’d fought plenty of battles in the Mindscape—though the rules here weren’t exactly like those in the Quantum Network, there were plenty of similarities. If she could play so wildly in the Quantum Network, she’d do just as well here: "What’s the point of hiding in a monastery, of self-delusion? When the sky buries you and the earth destroys you, you smash the heavens, split the earth, move mountains, and build a Skybridge to the stars!"

Boom! Golden light exploded in all directions, Jill Young’s mental force blasting the old illusionary world to the brink of collapse. In the Mindscape World, a majestic mountain rose from the ground, piercing the Bitter Sea and standing tall in the chaotic depths—like a cosmic pillar, holding up the universe. With a single step, Jill Young sent waves surging through the Bitter Sea. She reached out and grabbed, raising mountains that crashed thunderously into the sea.

The Bitter Sea was endless, and the mountains limitless. When this act of creation ended, a bridge appeared over the yellow sea—not any style anyone knew, but a modern cross-sea bridge, vast and awe-inspiring.

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"A bridge spanning north and south, turning the chasm into a thoroughfare." Jill Young’s mindscape projection walked on the bridge, and her real self strode through the hall: "I don’t save people—I just build a road. If you’ve got the guts and the will, follow me."

Brother Paul was completely stunned. He stared blankly as Jill Young approached, unable to react. The illusionary Mindscape World gradually shattered, but the woman’s real-world presence was undiminished. He had his own suffering, his own understanding. If not for a deep belief in ‘protection,’ he’d never have mastered the Golden Bell Shield to the twelfth level.

He firmly believed his understanding was correct.

But now, he wasn’t so sure.

"Not saving people, just building a road…" Brother Paul muttered, lost in thought.

But in the next instant, Jill Young’s voice sounded close by: "You said if I break your Golden Bell Shield, I win, right?"

"Huh?" Brother Paul snapped out of his daze and realized Jill Young was standing just three feet away. He hadn’t noticed her approach at all—his composure was completely shaken. With a bitter smile, he nodded honestly: "That’s right."